"Christina, hurry up and help Adam hold this."
After the immediate crisis passed, Dr. Sheppard noticed that Adam was holding up the massive tumor with one hand while pressing down on the bleeding site inside the patient's body with the other—like a pillar holding everything together.
Even Dr. Sheppard couldn't help but be impressed and, worried that Adam might not be able to hold on much longer, quickly called out to Christina, who was standing on the sidelines.
"Oh, oh!"
Christina rushed over and reached out to help.
Then her eyes went wide.
She realized that the full weight of the massive tumor was still entirely supported by Adam's single hand, just as steadily as when he had been using both.
Adam flashed her a smile.
Christina immediately understood. Grateful, she didn't say anything but pretended to help, keeping her hands close as if supporting the tumor—without actually touching it.
Dr. Sheppard's spinal surgery was clearly more demanding than Dr. Burke's previous lung operation.
The discomfort from holding a support position for eight hours earlier still hadn't worn off, and she didn't want to mess anything up now.
She was only pretending to help because she still needed to earn recognition from the senior doctors.
If you contribute nothing during such a rare surgery, who's going to want to work with you next time?
In the medical field, connections matter—but when it comes down to saving lives, professional skills are everything.
Even a world-renowned doctor can't carry dead weight.
Thanks to Adam's steady control of the bleeding, the patient managed to hold on until the blood bank delivered a new supply.
This time, it was Alex who brought the blood.
"Get out!"
Dr. Burke, who had rushed back after handling another emergency, saw Alex and immediately lost his temper, pointing at the door of the operating room.
"I'm here to deliver blood!"
Alex snapped back, clearly irritated.
When the OR urgently needed blood bags, Alex, feeling inspired after watching Adam steal the spotlight, had dashed out of the operating room. He hadn't gone far before running into a nurse bringing the blood.
Without thinking, he asked a question, then—under the nurse's confused gaze—snatched the blood bag and sprinted back to the OR.
(Nurse's inner monologue: "It wasn't even that far. I was already jogging over. I could've handled it…")
"Dr. Bailey, Alex isn't allowed anywhere near the OR for two weeks—my orders!"
Dr. Burke said, still furious, glaring at Alex's supervisor.
"Understood."
Dr. Bailey replied coldly, silently deciding to assign Alex to two weeks of rectal exams.
What an embarrassment!
"Calm down, Dr. Burke."
Breaking the heavy silence, Dr. Sheppard, who was on equal footing with Burke in terms of status, spoke up. "Let's talk about something positive. Did you know how close we were to losing the patient just now? It was all thanks to Dr. Duncan's outstanding performance."
Now that the crisis had passed, the sense of relief faded, and Adam was back to being "Dr. Duncan."
That's just human nature.
"I heard."
Dr. Burke's expression softened slightly. "It's clear there are some truly exceptional interns among us."
"Well, credit goes to your sharp eye for talent."
Dr. Sheppard chuckled. "At that moment, my view was obscured by blood, and even I couldn't immediately locate the bleeding site. Yet Dr. Duncan found it right away—pure luck!"
(Author's Note: For the latest updates, check !)
"Actually, it wasn't luck."
Adam replied, modest in expression but blunt in his words—completely unapologetic.
This was America, after all, and during his residency, showing his full potential was the only way to secure victory in this competitive field.
So, he laid it all out.
Luck? Miracles?
Those didn't exist.
He was just that skilled.
"Not luck?"
Dr. Sheppard and Dr. Burke exchanged amused glances. "Are you saying that in such a high-pressure situation, you instantly spotted the bleeding point?"
"Yep."
Adam nodded earnestly. "I deduced it from the trajectory of the blood spurts. Honestly, it's pretty simple."
"…"
Everyone was speechless, staring at him like he was joking.
"Are you serious?"
Only Christina seemed to sense that Adam wasn't playing around.
Hadn't she just witnessed him holding a giant tumor with one hand for so long—so steadily?
Even a professional weightlifter probably couldn't pull that off.
And yet, Adam had done it effortlessly.
You had to respect that.
"Of course."
Adam said seriously. "It's basic math—when blood spurts out, the trajectories all converge at the source. That's your bleeding point."
"But wait, how did you remember all the trajectories in that instant?"
Christina asked the question everyone was thinking.
"Easy."
Adam replied matter-of-factly. "You guys couldn't?"
"…"
Everyone's jaws tightened.
Come on!
The bleeding was so sudden, so fast—how could anyone possibly track all the trajectories?
Even if they tried again, staring as hard as they could, the best they'd manage would be to vaguely spot the bleeding site—not analyze the precise spray pattern!
It's not like they had some built-in slow-motion superpower.
"Sorry."
Adam shrugged. "I have high-definition photographic memory. I forgot you guys don't."
Everyone: "…"
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